


Sans Peur

by EASchechter



Series: Off the Main Sequence [1]
Category: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 21:56:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EASchechter/pseuds/EASchechter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a series of shorts that are part of the "On His Brother-in-Law's Secret Service" universe, but not part of the main sequence. Some of them are events mentioned, others are things that I thought of, but didn't fit. Hence the series title.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Sans Peur

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of shorts that are part of the "On His Brother-in-Law's Secret Service" universe, but not part of the main sequence. Some of them are events mentioned, others are things that I thought of, but didn't fit. Hence the series title.

 

The question hadn't been if they'd move in together, but where. In the end, it had been simplified by both Livvy's inheritance of the townhouse in Belgravia, and by the continued frustration of a certain consulting detective with excruciatingly bad timing. So, one week after Livvy's twenty-first birthday, she moved out of 221C, and Martin moved out of his attic room, and they moved in together.

One week after that, Douglas called the townhouse.

"Hello, Livvy. Do you have any idea what your father is up to?"

Livvy frowned, thinking. "No. Why?"

"Because he was waiting for us when we landed. He's gone and bundled Martin into a suit, then into his car, and they've both gone off who knows where," Douglas answered. "So... perhaps you shouldn't expect Sir for dinner tonight?"

"Interesting. Thank you, Douglas." Livvy rang off, then picked up her mobile. Mycroft didn't answer, so she sent a quick text to Sherlock.

 _Do you know why Papa would want Martin today?_ \--OH

A few minutes later, her mobile chimed.

 _I have an idea_ \-- SH

 _Are you going to share?_   _Should I at least plan for dinner?_ \-- OH

There was no return text, and Livvy grumbled for a moment about her fathers, then went to call and change their dinner reservations.

Several hours later, Livvy heard the front door open, and hurried down the stairs to the ground flood. Martin was standing in the entryway, dressed in a suit that Livvy knew hadn't come from his own closet, and looking as if he'd been hit in the back of the head with a board multiple times. He looked up as Livvy came down the stairs and opened his mouth several times, but nothing came out. Then Livvy got close enough to see the blue and red ribbon around his neck, the white enameled Maltese cross on his breast.

"The Royal Victorian Order?" she gasped. "That was where you've been?"

Martin looked down at his chest, up at Livvy, and nodded. "I... I seem to have been knighted, Liv."

She came the rest of the way down the stairs and took his arm, leading him towards the rear of the house and the lift. "Come on, let's get you changed. I'll order some takeaway and you can tell me everything."

They ate dinner out of the cartons, sitting in the middle of their bed, with Martin wearing his pyjama pants and his vest, Livvy wearing Martin's pyjama shirt.

"He didn't tell me anything, Liv!" Martin insisted, gesturing with his chopsticks. "He gave me the garment bag, told me to get changed. I don't know what I'm going to do about that suit. Can we return it, do you think?"

"Darling, I think that's bespoke."

"How the hell did he get my measurements? I know you didn't give them to him. You'd have warned me!" Martin said. He looked at Livvy and laughed. "And how am I supposed to afford a bespoke suit?"

"I think that was a gift, darling," Livvy answered. "Papa does what he wants. You learn which battles to fight."

"Right. Anyhow, I had no idea where we were going until we pulled into the courtyard at Buckingham Palace. I've never been anywhere that posh, Liv. I had no idea what I was doing. And... what's her name?"

"Anthea?"

"Yes, her. She was at my elbow the whole time, just... giving me hints. Turn here. Don't stare. Bow. Take five steps, bow, then kneel. Then..."

"The accolade, I assume?" Livvy set her carton down on the bed and sighed. "That was terrible of him, to have sprung that on you."

"I just don't understand why!" Martin said. He looked down at his carton and sighed. "I'm done. Are you done?"

"I'm done. Give it to me. I'll take it down to the kitchen. You get washed up, and we'll have an early night."

When she came back into the bedroom, Martin was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to the door. He didn't turn, and Livvy crawled across the bed and knelt behind him to see that he held the cross in his hand. She gently started to rub his neck, then kissed the top of his spine.

"What are you thinking?" she murmured.

"That he did this so that you wouldn't be marrying a piss-poor commercial pilot who never managed to get a real job with a real airline," Martin answered, his voice sad and small. "I mean... I'm a knight now. That means I'm important. I'm... worth something."

Livvy caught her breath, then reached down and took the cross and ribbon from his hand, setting them both on the nightstand. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. "You've always been worthy. You earned that honour, love. You helped save the world."

"But--" Martin turned towards her, and Livvy silenced his protests with a kiss. It was, she'd discovered, the quickest way to derail Martin when he fell into one of his black moods, when the self-doubt and self-hate reared up and threatened to undermine his new-found and oh-so-fragile confidence. He'd been convinced that he was worthless, undeserving even of being loved -- kissing him showed him otherwise.

Martin twisted, putting his arm around her and pulling her forward so that she was sitting in his lap. When he drew back, he was smiling. "What was that for?" he asked. "Not that I'm complaining."

"You'd better not complain," Livvy teased. "And you're wrong."

"Not surprising. How am I wrong this time?"

"That cross didn't change anything. You have always been my perfect knight, _sans peur et sans reproche,_ ever since I first met you. Remember? Carolyn tried to yell at me for something, and you stood up for me?"

Martin blushed to his ears. "I... what does that mean? Sans... sans what?"

" _Sa_ _ns peur et sans reproche_? It means without fear and without reproach." Livvy rested her head on his shoulder, breathing in the warm scent of his aftershave and his skin. "Martin, there's nothing Papa could do, ever, that would make me not want to marry you. I love you."

"He could make me disappear," Martin murmured.

Livvy sat up and looked at him. "Where did you hear that?"

"Douglas."

"Martin, if you ever disappeared, I'd find you," Livvy said, meeting his eyes. "I promise you that. And Papa would never do that. Not to you. He might kidnap you now and then--"

"What?" Martin almost squawked. Livvy giggled.

"That's what Uncle John calls it. When he shows up and picks you up in one of the department cars? It just means he wants to talk privately."

"Oh, you mean like today?" Martin laughed. "Well, I suppose."

Livvy rested her head back on his shoulder. "Martin, I love you. Papa likes and admires you. Both of my fathers like you. You can stop worrying."

Martin took a deep breath and hugged Livvy tightly. "Right. Stopping worrying... now. I do love you, Liv."

He _sounded_ better, but there was still an undercurrent of... something. "There's something else. Something else nibbling at you. What?"

"Are you going to do that all the time?" Martin asked. "Read my mind?"

"Was I?" Livvy thought about it. "It might be proximity. We can test it. Later. What else is bothering you?"

Martin sighed and hugged her. "I called Simon. Told him I was getting married."

"Simon?" Livvy asked.

Martin hesitated a moment, then sighed, "My brother."

"Oh!" Livvy smiled. "I can't wait to meet him. Them. You have a sister, too, don't you?"

"Yes. Caitlin. And... you probably won't be meeting them," Martin said slowly. "He's... not coming to the wedding. Neither of them are."

"What?" Livvy sat straight up, almost knocking her head against Martin's chin. "Why not?"

Martin didn't answer, but this time, the pain was too close to the surface. Livvy shifted around until she was straddling Martin's lap and took his face in her hands. "What did he say?" she asked softly.

"That it would be a waste of his time. That no one in their right mind would ever marry a worthless piece of shit like me. That I was probably marrying a whore or a idiot, or both," he answered quietly. "I... may have said some things... and he told me he never wanted to see me again, that if I ever came near him or Cait again that he'd beat the crap out of me. And he hung up on me."

Livvy blinked. "What did you say?"

"I... got insulted. Because... he insulted you." Martin rested his hands on Livvy's waist. "I told him that I was marrying the finest woman in the world, and if he wanted to see a worthless piece of shit, that he needed to look in the mirror. And that I wouldn't have him at our wedding if he was the minister, and that if he did show up, I'd kick his ass from here to Brixton and back."

Livvy bit her lip to keep from laughing, then shook her head and smiled. "My perfect knight. Why Brixton?"

"First place I thought of."

"Good answer," Livvy said. She slid her hands down Martin's chest and started to tease the bottom of Martin's vest out of his pants.

"And what are you doing, darling?" Martin asked.

"Taking you too bed, Sir Darling."

Martin laughed and let her strip the shirt over his head. "Sir Darling? I like that. And is that what they mean when they say that the knight's lady gives him her favor?"

"It is now."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Floorplan of Martin and Livvy's townhouse:  
> http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YKClG-ftNkU/T4bL0ZKpNnI/AAAAAAAADVM/qMZsu0q7xLI/s1600/Floor+Plan.jpg


End file.
